


Five letter word just to get me along.

by bericdondarrion



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 09:38:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bericdondarrion/pseuds/bericdondarrion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>written for the yescon-asoiaf kink meme: "The Brotherhood Without Banners is never formed, Robb wins the war and somehow, against his wishes, ends up as king in the iron throne. When the moment comes to give lands and titles to the people that helped him during the war, Beric is called to be rewarded for his service of killing the Mountain and his army. Robb calls him lord Derik and lord Eric and all possible names except the correct one."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five letter word just to get me along.

The crown rested upon his head gracefully, as natural as any other part of his body, and Thoros supposed that he had been wearing it for a long time now.

No, not that long, he corrected himself, perhaps only a couple of years but enough to get used to the bronze thing, he supposed. 

Even with that in mind, and with the experience of having been participant of three king's courts now, he had never seen one so uncomfortable on his royal seat. The crown had taken a couple of years, Thoros wondered how long before the Iron Throne became more inviting to the new king. He hoped it was soon enough, for everyone's sake.

King Robb cleared his throat, took a deep breath and called upon the next subject that was to receive honours and lands for their contribution to the cause one way or another.

One way or another almost half of the realm was dead, including the Lannister dynasty. He had heard that a singer somewhere had already modified The Reins of Castamere and The Lannisters of Casterly Rock was already being sung in all corners of the Seven Kingdoms. Tom, something. It wasn't that witty, of course, the lyrics were the same, he had only changed the names and locations.

And that dragon lady had chosen to rule the Free Cities instead of making more of a mess in a land that had been torn apart and was only now beginning to reconstruct itself. Good for her, Beric had said. Lucky for us, Thoros replied.

If only the same had happened with Stannis Baratheon, would that he had stayed up at the Wall. Thoros looked over his shoulder and to the former King in the Narrow Sea (in the end, he had bended quite nicely into an agreement of keeping his title and his lands as if nothing had happened, the Lord of Storm's End), next to him was Lady Melisandre. He had heard of her before, of her inability to take their ways less damn seriously. It wasn't Thoros style. Somehow, she caught his eye, he smiled and stuck his tongue out, then proceeded to attempt to pay attention to the King once again.

"Stop that", he heard the whisper from his side where a comely young lord was looking at him with disapproval in his eyes.

"I think he is about to reward the tailor".

It was true, the Iron Throne had never been so crowded and the ceremony had only just begun. 

"I'm sorry that generosity and gratefulness do not appeal to you, the King is being fair and kind, we should be happy". 

"You are the young strong hero who defeated The Mountain, I'm old and fat and I need entertainment and rest and I do not care if I'm branded a traitor, I shall be out of here if we are not done by supper".

Beric rolled his eyes. 

Lady Catelyn Stark, the Hand of the King, approached her son with the next name on the list. Robb had memorised and learnt of everyone's great deeds during the war and needed just the name to know what to say. 

And besides, this one was a particularly popular one. Girls kept talking about how handsome and gallant this southern Lord was, and epic tales and songs were being penned about the battle at the Trident against Gregor Clegane. Robb was expected to deliver in great proportions to - to this southern Lord.

"What is the name again?", he whispered nervously to Lady Stark. 

The party that his father had sent out, he had always had trouble trying to memorise that bloody name.

Catelyn leaned in to Robb's ear and whispered slow and clear, "Lord Beric Dondarrion". Robb nodded and mouthed the name once again.

"Thanks". He cleared his throat, straightened himself up in that bloody uncomfortable throne, moved swiftly hoping nobody was noticing even if every Lord and Lady of the realm were looking at him and opened his mouth to call.

"Lord Derek, come forward".

He didn't see her palm against her forehead, but Robb did hear a soft frustrated sigh coming from his mother, 'all the time'.

There was muttering in the Iron Throne and Thoros looked at Beric, "I think he means you". Beric opened and closed his mouth several times and tried hard not to blush yet his face was as red as his mope of hair and Thoros couldn't help his chuckling. 

Whatever strength he had gathered when he used that lance to kill Gregor Clegane had to be summoned in that very moment to come forward, but he did.

"Beric", he muttered but clearly the King had not heard. 

"Lord-",

Beric, Catelyn murmured, say Beric.

"-Eric Dondarrion, you were chosen once by my father to carry out a sacred duty and you did so with strength and bravery, I'm honoured to be here to finish what you and my Lord Father started.".

Beric bowed solemnly but Thoros was convinced that two young lads looked rather pained. He did wonder how could anyone get Beric wrong and Dondarrion right.

"Lord Edric", Thoros saw clearly as Beric dropped his shoulders in resignation and Lady Stark looked up to the heavens, "Would you do me the honour of joining my Kingsguard?". 

The Iron Throne broke into murmur and Beric strengthened himself once again, "You honour me, Your Grace but my betrothed awaits for me and one cannot break a sacred bow".

King Robb smiled softly and looked over Queen Roslin for a moment before nodding, "In that case -".

Thoros didn't hear the rest, surely Beric would tell him afterwards, for now he was disappointed because, among many other things, he wouldn't be able to hear the King call one of his knights every possible variation of his name but the right one. He much preferred Beric in King's Landing than in Blackhaven. 

"Thank you, Lord Alaric".

Beric pursed his lips, "It's-", then he bit his lip and rolled his eyes, "no problem, Your Grace".


End file.
